


I Will Not Sleep

by LaFemmePoeme



Series: Entity shenanigans [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Geometric Shapes, Nightmares, Other, Riddles, Spiral Shenanigans, impossibilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23080108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaFemmePoeme/pseuds/LaFemmePoeme
Summary: I shall not sleep,I will not sleep.
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character
Series: Entity shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656637
Kudos: 4





	I Will Not Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> The original text was in Finnish (since that's my mother tongue).  
> My dear friend Chris helped me translate and beta-read for me.  
> A HUGE thank you to him <3  
> The prompt was nightmare.

The moon shines in the darkness of the night. And I can see it oh so clearly, watching me from up above. But even if I do bathe in its light, it stays cold. Distant. 

The moon offers no comfort; no condolences, in the loneliness of the night. And it’s so late already. But I am not asleep. Even Nelly is already sleeping the night away, lost in her own dreamworld. But I am not asleep. 

There is a clock over the doorframe, watching over our humble abode while it ticks away, getting closer and closer to the dawn of a new day. But I am not asleep. No _,_ _I won’t sleep._

The peace and quiet of the waking world do not follow me into the dreams. Instead, in my dreams, I get beaten senseless. 

I am twisted in endless directions, contorting my body into inhumane proportions. My unconscious self becomes a circle, made up of endless corners; a square with none. 

And in those dreams, as I lay down, I am surrounded by every shape imaginable, curving and bending as they cover me. And then there is the Door. The Door made of yellow and partly in the wall; partly in the floor. 

And in those moments, I forget, that there is in fact no room. 

Yet I still knock and scratch and tear at the Door, knowing it will lead me nowhere. And I do it without hands; without fingers, thumbs, _palms._ I cry for Nelly, plead for her, but without a voice, not making a sound. 

And when the Door does open, always taking me by surprise, I have to confront the creature residing on the other side. The lie told, repeated in my dreams, over and over again, with no end in sight. And I become something else entirely, sticking to the non-existent floor and its creak as I confront it. 

And the Door speaks. It poses questions, riddles, as I stay there, petrified. “What would you call a house with no walls?” it asks me, “Is dividing by zero possible?” it continues. 

It poses these endless questions, pestering me, giving me no peace, no quiet, _nothing._ And I do not sleep. I will not sleep. Not ever again. No matter what I am given, what spells are cast, what lengths people are willing to go to, _I will not sleep._

No matter if I am tied to the bed, left for dead or if Nelly leaves me, nothing will make me sleep again. Because I do not want to face the Door again, for I am a man of virtue and honour, not madness and lies. 

And when the dawn comes, the walls start to melt and Es Mentiras calls for me, I will only whisper _“I won’t sleep”_ to that clock over our doorframe. 

**Author's Note:**

> Some shenanigans with The Spiral.  
> This has been written by a diagnosed insomniac (me), so I find it pretty relatable tbh.  
> Even if it's my own work.


End file.
